A Heart in the Water

Yesterday (Oct. 15, 2026), I was invited to take a nature walk with my mother-in-law. It was an incredibly beautiful afternoon. The sky was a perfect shade of blue, and the sun illuminated the fall leaves.

We met at a trail that abuts a canal in Blackstone Valley. It’s a beautiful place to walk year-round, and it's the halfway point between where we both live. The day was so picturesque that photographers were everywhere, trying to snap the season's last shots. We, too, tried to take our own photos to capture the day.

Along the path, several passersby greeted us, and we had a few short conversations. My mother-in-law is a very friendly soul and seems to strike up conversations with strangers easily.

About halfway back to where we had parked, I looked ahead at the canal and wasn’t sure I was actually seeing what I thought I saw. I turned to my mother-in-law and said, “Are you seeing a big heart shape in the water ahead?” To our mutual surprise, she responded excitedly, “Yes! Quick, take a picture!”

I fumbled for my phone while holding the dog leash, and by the time I unlocked my phone (ugh), the perfectly shaped heart had already started to dissipate.

I kept thinking about that heart after I got home. It had only been there for a moment, and if I hadn’t looked in that direction at that exact moment, I probably would have missed it altogether.

Maybe it was simply the light, the slight breeze, and the water lining up just right. But to me, it felt like more than that.

I chose to see it as an expression of God’s love—there in the middle of an ordinary walk, appearing for just a moment and asking only that I notice.